


Get Stuffed

by GeneratorCat



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Begging, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Hopeful Ending, M/M, PWP, Pining, Wet & Messy, literally just 3k of smut, tim gets that d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneratorCat/pseuds/GeneratorCat
Summary: Leaning down, Jason asks in his ear, “Is this okay?”Okay?Tim wants to yell. He’s trapped, frenzied. Hates that Jason has done this to him– except that he really, really doesn’t hate it at all. He feels more out of control than he ever has in his life, but it’s… itis, actually, okay. It’s okay because he doesn’t have to be in control here. It’s okay because Jason won’t hurt him. He knows that. Jason might not like him, but Tim knows he wouldn’t harm someone in this situation. And that gives Tim the freedom to just let go. He surrenders.“Yes,” he says.“God, Drake,” he whispers heatedly, and then clamps his teeth to the skin on the back of Tim’s neck. Tim goes completely pliant, like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf. A small, broken sound comes up from his throat.“Please,” he croaks.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 21
Kudos: 665





	Get Stuffed

**Author's Note:**

> franticvampirereads: For the drabble ask: what about a pre JayTim with the song My Heart I Surrender by I Prevail?
> 
> this is.... well when i usually write smut there's a lot niceness and warmth and care and feelings, but this is not really that. this is also not beta'd and I only read over it once before posting, so sorry if there's mistakes

“Get the hell out of here, replacement,” Jason growls, sounding genuinely angry. Tim pauses, reassessing his game-plan. He had only expected irritation. 

“I thought you might want–”

“What,” he spits. He seems to get even larger, just by crossing his arms and tilting his head back to look down his nose at Tim– as if he wasn’t already looking down at him. “Want what? _ You _ ? Here, in my _ house _? Why would I ever want that?”

Tim swallows, sensing the possibility of shouting approaching. He doesn’t want this to end up turning into a fight. The whole reason he’s here in Jason’s apartment is to offer an olive branch, mend bridges, make peace. He holds up the bucket of fried chicken. “I brought– Mama Jo’s is your favorite, right?” 

Jason doesn’t look at the chicken. “That in my file, too?” 

“No, I. I noticed.”

“You notice a lot about a person when you watch their every move.” 

“Do you want it or not?” Tim asks, not denying anything. He’s unnerved by how desperately he wants Jason to let him stay. By how much he wants Jason to pay attention to him, look at him, talk to him, acknowledge his existence. This is the longest conversation they’ve had in a long time, and he doesn’t want it to end. He knows he shouldn’t want someone who doesn’t want him. He shouldn’t spend all of his time thinking about someone who never thinks about him. But he does, and he can’t help but think that maybe, someday, Jason might want him too. Maybe that starts by wanting chicken. “I got extra drumsticks.” 

Jason steps closer, crowding Tim until the backs of his thighs hit the couch. “What are you doing here?” he asks, gaze searching. “Why are you always fucking watching me? Do you think I’m that evil, that you can’t let me out of your sight?”

“No, that’s not–”

“Then _ what _,” Jason hisses, bending down so his face draws near to Tim’s. The only thing keeping their bodies from touching is the family-size container of chicken. Tim can’t stop himself from glancing down to Jason’s mouth, and Jason notices. He narrows his eyes, tilts his head. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?” Tim rasps. He feels splayed open, like Jason can see every thought. He tries to keep his breathing steady but it falters when Jason plants his hands on the back of the couch, caging him between his arms. 

“All this– watching me from the shadows, trying to hang out with me, bringing me food. You just want to fuck me?”

Part of Tim rages at it being put like that. _ Just want to fuck me. _ He wants more than that. He wants to hold hands while watching a movie, to help bandage Jason up after a fight, to hold him in the night when bad dreams comes. He wants Jason to look at him like he’s something good, not just a reminder of everything he’s lost. 

He doesn’t say any of that. He doesn’t say anything. He lets Jason think what he wants, because Jason wouldn’t believe anything else. 

And, because if he confessed the truth, Jason would throw him out in a heartbeat. Tim is selfish. He wants to stay.

Watching him closely, Jason pulls the bucket out of Tim’s grasp and reaches back to set it on the kitchen island. Tim lets it go easily. He lets Jason take hold of his face, thumb dragging along his bottom lip. He lets Jason slide a leg between his, lets him feel the way he’s getting harder by the second. 

Is this a fantasy? He almost expects to come back to himself and find he’s just lying in his bed and all of this is in his head. 

He almost expects Jason to pull back and laugh at him, say he would never touch Tim that way. 

But Jason doesn’t do that. He pushes in closer. He shoves his hands under Tim’s shirt, skin calloused and rough on his stomach. He looks at him intently and asks, “Is this what you want?”

No, this isn’t exactly what he wants. He could say no. He could stop this and leave, protect his heart. He could pretend none of this happened and go back to watching Jason from afar– but that's the thing. He will have to go back to that. He has no illusions about what this will be. Jason isn’t looking to hold hands or watch movies or even be friends. This is all Tim’s going to get, and this will be his only chance. If he says no, Jason will take that as a rejection, and he’ll shut himself away forever.

He nods shakily. 

There’s a flash of disbelief in Jason’s eyes, but then it’s gone and he looks… a little angry, still. But more than that he look_ ravenous _. He wraps his hands around Tim’s middle and his fingers actually touch, thumbs in the front and middle fingers on his spine. He squeezes, and Tim’s mouth drops with a groan and for a moment Jason is the only thing holding him up. One hand slides down over the back of Tim’s pants and grabs at his ass, making Tim choke on a whine. 

“Is _ this _ what you want?”

Tim nods again, more sure this time. 

“Tell me,” Jason demands. “I need to hear it.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I want–” he gasps as Jason’s thigh pushes more firmly underneath him, lifting him up so that the toes of his sneakers barely brush the floor. His cock rubs against Jason’s hard muscle. He doesn’t know where to look, can’t meet Jason’s eyes. He’s so overwhelmed already. Words fall out of his mouth in a stuttering, desperate rush. “_ Fuck _ , p-please, fuck me, _ fuck me _. Please fuck me!”

“Yeah,” Jason breathes, hot on Tim’s neck. His lips and tongue drag teasingly along his skin. “You sound good like that, Drake.” 

Tim bites down hard to keep from saying _ Tim call me Tim _. ‘Drake’ is at least better than ‘replacement’.

“Want you to beg for my cock,” he continues, rubbing over Tim’s hole through his jeans. It’s not stimulation in itself, but it’s the promise of it, and that has Tim panting. “I wanna know how much you want it. Can you do that?”

Tim almost laughs. If he told Jason just how much he’s craving it, _ aches _ for it, this whole thing would be over. But Jason wants him to be eager for it, so he says, “I need you to fuck me, need you to fill me. Need to feel you inside me.” 

Jason moans and tightens his grip everywhere, like a boa constrictor around its prey. Tim’s head falls back. He stares blankly at the ceiling, wondering how the hell he got here and willing himself not to come so soon. 

“Gonna fill you up, make you feel me for _ days _,” Jason growls.

“Yes,” he whispers, voice failing. “_ Please _.” 

Jason lets go, and Tim nearly topples over, catching himself against the back of the couch. 

“Stay,” he says, and then turns and heads down the hall to his bedroom. Tim itches to run after him, but his feet are rooted to the floor. 

He’s back not thirty seconds later– which is good because Tim doesn’t have time to start over-analyzing everything– holding lube and a condom. The thick line of his dick is visible through his sweatpants, and Tim’s mouth goes wet. He hasn’t had the opportunity to suck a dick before, and he’s hungry for it. What he doesn’t want, however, is for Jason to realize that he’s never done this, not with a man. His long list of sexual encounters includes Stephanie and his own hands. If Jason knew that, he might back out. 

Jason doesn’t seem to care about being sucked off though, because he goes straight for tearing away Tim’s clothes. Before he knows it, Tim is naked, turned around, and bent over the back of the couch. He feels vulnerable and small and exposed, but it doesn’t make him uncomfortable. Instead, he spreads his legs further apart. He keeps his hips away from the couch because one touch of anything to his dick might make all of this over before he’s ready. He hears the bottle of lube pop open, and then there are slick fingers on his rim. 

“Please,” he says before Jason can ask for it, earning him a hum of approval. “Want your fingers. Need you to stretch me open so you can fuck me with your cock.” 

He expects it to be rough, to hurt. It’s _ firm _ , yes, and Jason’s fingers are so much bigger than Tim’s, wider and longer than what he’s used to. But he doesn’t go too fast. He stretches Tim open carefully and thoroughly, with what must be half the bottle of lube because the stuff is _ everywhere _ , making loud, squelching noises, and driving Tim crazy. He whines and squirms, body instinctively trying to find something to rub against. He can barely reach the seat cushions with his fingertips, has nothing to grab to hold himself up. Jason grips his hair tightly, keeping him in place as he shoves inside with three fingers, _ hard _ , and Tim _ sobs _. He tenses all over, toes scrambling for purchase on the hardwood floor as he comes. 

“_ Fuck _ ,” Jason groans, and for a brief, terrible moment Tim worries he’s upset, and this will all end, but then he says, “God, you want it _ so much _, don’t you. You wanna be fucked so bad you already came. I didn’t even touch your dick. You couldn’t help yourself.”

Tim flushes, embarrassed, but the way Jason clearly loves it makes him confident this isn’t over yet. That, and the fact that he’s still petting at his asshole, rubbing the outside in slow, deliberate strokes. He puts just enough pressure to make Tim’s body try to suck him back inside, empty and pulsing.

“I– I couldn’t help it,” Tim agrees breathlessly, mindlessly. “Wanna be fucked.” 

He slumps over the couch when Jason releases him. There’s the sound of fabric being moved around, and he peeks behind him to watch as Jason rolls the condom on and spreads lube over himself. He hasn’t removed his clothes, just pushed them out of the way, and Tim wishes he could see all of his body but this, being the only one naked, makes him feel… like a thing. Like a thing to be fucked, not a person to be cared for. Jason isn’t even taking the time to get undressed, just needs to get his cock inside something, and Tim’s ass is there, gaping, waiting.

He never thought he would enjoy being treated that way, but it actually makes it easier. It reminds him this is sex and there’s no room for feelings here, and any dreams he has about what could be need to be forgotten, at least for now. Right now he’s going to get fucked and he’s going to let himself enjoy it without his stupid heart pining for anything else. 

He clenches, and then tilts his hips up. “Come on, fuck me.” 

Jason hums, grabbing his cheeks with both hands and squeezing. “I’ll give it to you, don’t worry. But you’re too short to do it like this. Your ass is too low.” 

Before Tim can offer any suggestions, Jason is picking him up. He feels like a kitten being hauled by the scruff, a weightless thing in Jason’s arms. He’s set down on the floor. It’s hard and cold under his hands and knees, and then under his chest and cheek as Jason pushes his top half down. Jason arranges his legs and hips right where he wants them. Tim sucks his bottom lip to keep from drooling. 

“Tell me again.” 

“I want your cock in me, please, I’m so _ empty _ . Fill me up. I _ need it _, I need–” 

Jason shoves inside in one long movement, and Tim _ wails _. He’s never been this loud during sex, but right now he can’t keep himself from screaming. His heart is hammering, he feels like he’s going to explode. He doesn’t care that his knees hurt. He doesn’t care that Jason doesn’t love him, might never love him. He just feels good. Feels full and filled and right. 

Jason pulls back out, leaving him empty, and it’s only for a few moments probably but it’s long enough that he starts feeling like he might never come back, and he babbles, begging for Jason’s cock, pleading for him to give it to him again. Rationally, he understands that he’ll be okay if this ends now, but the wild animal part of his brain that has taken over is convinced he’s going to die if he doesn’t get fucked right this second. He bucks up, but is held firmly in place by Jason’s massive frame.

Leaning down, Jason asks in his ear, “Is this okay?”

_ Okay? _ Tim wants to yell. He’s trapped, frenzied. Hates that Jason has done this to him– except that he really, really doesn’t hate it at all. He feels more out of control than he ever has in his life, but it’s… it _ is _, actually, okay. It’s okay because he doesn’t have to be in control here. It’s okay because Jason won’t hurt him. He knows that. Jason might not like him, but Tim knows he wouldn’t harm someone in this situation. And that gives Tim the freedom to just let go. He surrenders. 

“Yes,” he says. 

“God, Drake,” he whispers heatedly, and then clamps his teeth to the skin on the back of Tim’s neck. Tim goes completely pliant, like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf. A small, broken sound comes up from his throat. 

“Please,” he croaks. 

Jason slides back inside, but only just past the head, before he pulls out again. He repeats that motion, just giving Tim a taste of what he’s growing frantic for. It’s torture, but it’s incredible. Tears build at the corners of his eyes. He whimpers pitifully. 

“Shh,” Jason soothes, rubbing a hand down his side, down his hip, down his thigh. He grabs tight, and Tim hopes there’ll be bruises later. “It’s all right, I’m gonna give you what you want.” 

But he doesn’t, not right away. He keeps on with that slight rocking, only an inch or so in and then back out, chest brushing Tim’s back with every movement, and Tim reaches a point where he just can’t take it any longer. It takes a minute to get his tongue and lips and vocal chords to work together, and when they do it’s mumbled and slurred. “I need– seriously, J-Jason, I need…” 

“Okay.” He straightens up, wraps his hands firmly over Tim’s hips, and drives home. The slap of his skin meeting skin is almost drowned out by Tim’s yelp. 

“Yes!” he cries, delirious with need. Begs, “More, fuck,_ more _.”

Jason listens, fucking into him over and over, hard enough that his sweaty front slips forward on the floor, but he can’t fall completely because Jason is lifting him up– actually lifting Tim’s bottom half up, pulling him back onto his cock. 

Tim doesn’t have words anymore, he only has screams and howls and horrifying, blubbering mewls. Tears and saliva wet his face. He must be the most pathetic creature on the planet, but he doesn’t have the capacity to care. Jason must not care either, maybe even likes it, because he keeps fucking deep and fast, letting out these pleased grunts and curses. By the sound of it, Tim must feel really good to fuck. 

With that thought, Tim comes, untouched, for the second time.

Jason doesn’t slow down; if anything, he gets more forceful, Tim’s whole body jolting with every thrust. “Shit, look at that,” he gasps. “Do you usually come like that? Just from something in your ass?”

Tim has just enough energy to feebly shake his head no. 

“Yeah,” Jason moans, “I did that. I made you feel that good.” He reaches down to wipe at the tears and spit on Tim’s face. Holds his slack jaw. “You’re such a fucking mess.”

“For you,” Tim replies weakly, and Jason loses it. He slams himself as deep as he can and comes. 

“Fuck, Tim, _ fuck _!”

Smiling, Tim closes his eyes.

When he opens them again he’s laid out on the couch. He’s been cleaned up and dressed, and there’s a blanket draped over him that falls when he slowly stands up. His legs are wobbly, but they hold. His ass is sore like he’s never felt before. He feels slow and muddled. 

“Coffee?” Jason asks, and Tim turns around to see him in the kitchen, looking freshly-showered and pouring himself a mug. 

“Um.” His mouth is gummy. “Sure. Thanks.” 

Jason doesn’t pour Tim’s coffee, just gestures to the pot in invitation. Tim fixes himself a cup, and starts to come back to himself as he drinks. Glancing at Jason, who is pointedly not looking at him, he says, “So.”

Jason silently sips his coffee, clearly wanting him to leave. 

Tim feels awkward and humiliated, but it’s his own fault, really. He agreed to everything, even knowing Jason has no feelings for him. It was just sex. He can’t expect more. Jason even cared for him after. 

His eyes dart around the apartment, and he spots the container of fried chicken on the counter; he can’t help but laugh. Jason frowns in confusion and he explains, “I was planning on being stuffed tonight, but not like this.”

Jason looks over at the food, and then rolls his eyes. He hesitates, then says, “Next time you want to get stuffed in the fun way, let me know.” 

Tim sucks his lips in over his teeth. “That’s pretty different from, _ Get the hell out of here, replacement _.” 

Jason shrugs. 

“You’d want to, though?” Tim asks. “Again?”

“Yeah. You were– it was good.” 

“Okay. Maybe,” he says instead of something like _ definitely _because he doesn’t know if he can handle it a second time. He can already sense the impending meltdown that will hit later when he gets home. “And maybe we could…”

“What?”

His heart pounds, and it’s on the edge of shattering, but he has to try. “We could do something else, too. Watch a movie?”

Jason stares at him, baffled and incredulous and not hiding it. “You want to watch a movie with me?”

It feels like another moment of surrender when he answers, “Yes.” He feels more vulnerable and exposed than he has all night. 

“I…” He grips his mug so tightly his fingers turn white. “Maybe.”

Holding back the smile that wants to break through, Tim says, “Okay. I, uh. I should go.” 

Jason is quiet as Tim heads for the door, but when he opens it to leave Jason speaks up. “Thanks. For the food.”

“Thanks for the dick,” Tim replies, not looking back. He doesn’t want to show the ridiculous smile on his face. 

Jason lets out a surprised laugh, and Tim thinks maybe he won’t be having that meltdown later after all. 


End file.
